


The Last Days of Summer

by DeadByJune



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Dancing, Gay dads, Light grief/mourning themes, M/M, Queerplatonic/romantic, Reminiscing, Slightly Philosophical, Slightly canon-divergent?, The nature of their relationship is left a bit vague on purpose, They parted several times but always ended up coming back together is what I'm implying here, They're a happy family and all is well, it's open to interpretation, sappy romance, vandermatthews
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-26
Updated: 2019-09-26
Packaged: 2020-10-28 15:02:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20780531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadByJune/pseuds/DeadByJune
Summary: The Summer is slowly drawing to a close, and the first nightly chill of Fall has almost unnoticeably come creeping in. Hosea and Dutch cannot help but find themselves a little nostalgic this time of year, wistful at the last few days of another long, hot Summer spent together. On a sleepless night, while the rest of the Van der Linde gang rests easy, they manage to find some quiet time together around the dying campfire, where under the starry night sky they fondly recall the past, and the way it all began.A fic artistically inspired by First Aid Kit (Stay Gold and America), Gregory Alan Isakov (San Luis, Amsterdam, The Stable Song), Fleet Foxes (False Knight On The Road) and Mark Knopfler (Sailing To Philadelphia).





	The Last Days of Summer

**Author's Note:**

> For my darling Gisella  
If it’s forever, then I hope it is forever with you

“Hosea. You’re still up.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” the man replied, glancing back over his shoulder. He sat huddled in his coat, barely illuminated by the glow of the dying campfire, casting mellow shadows onto his face.

Dutch watched him for a moment before slowly wandering closer through the darkness, the grass under his boots rustling in the quiet of the night. 

The rest of the camp was fast asleep, and it seemed as though they were the only ones left awake at this hour; countless fireflies floating in the still air their only witnesses. He perched down on the log beside his partner, picking up a nearby stick to poke at the cinders with. They released a last burst of smoke and embers into the night as he stirred the ashes, rising up into the sky like ghosts, and then went quiet.

“What is keeping you awake?” Hosea asked after a while of simply sitting alongside each other, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s been a long day. You should try to get some rest…”

“I’ve had a lot on my mind lately,” Dutch sighed out, tossing his stick aside after a moment’s pause. He loosely crossed his arms before leaning his elbows to his knees, staring blankly ahead.

“Well then. A penny for your thoughts, Dutch.” Hosea slowly straightened up, shifting closer as he lifted up his coat and draped it around the other man’s shoulders. His tense muscles seemed to relax a little at the warmth that engulfed him, and he breathed out a sigh of relief at the sense of familiar comfort, eyes sliding shut.

“It’s nothing... Nothing that I can’t handle by myself. I just need some time to sort it all out… Some time to think.”

“Is it a matter that you would like my advice on?”

“I would much rather be distracted from it, if only for a minute...”

The older man nodded, and his hand found the other’s shoulder with a reassuring squeeze that prompted Dutch to tip his head sideways, resting it lightly against his.

For a long while they kept quiet then, simply staring at what remained of the fire at their feet as they sat in silence and wordlessly basked in each other’s presence; a gentle warmth that distantly reminded him of late, balmy summer evenings long ago.

“What were you doing?” Dutch then finally asked, breaking the peaceful silence between them.

“Looking at the stars. It seems they are especially bright tonight. I must have gotten lucky. The weather isn’t usually this clear around these parts this time of year.” Hosea looked up at the night sky, and Dutch’s eyes followed suit, gazing off into the endless starry void that stretched out above their heads together. 

“They’re shining just for us,” Dutch mused, absentmindedly curling his fingers into the fur lining Hosea’s coat. “Just like…”

“Just like old times. Yes.” Hosea finished his sentence. His voice was tender; laced with a bittersweet nostalgia that managed to touch at something deep inside of Dutch, stirring awake an old feeling. A distant memory. 

Time had passed them by so swiftly, young and wide-eyed; like an endless hazy summer’s day in the middle of July. The days had seamlessly flowed into one another under a golden sun, leaving them blissfully dazed at the falling of the evening, like in a dream. Together they slept on the floor of abandoned places, and together they awoke in the gentle morning light, entangled in each other’s arms. The world was theirs and they went wherever the wind would take them, fearlessly chasing their dreams and committing their crimes along the way. Everyone knew their names, but they only had eyes for each other. They lived like gods in a savage paradise - America, the New World, an unspoiled Utopia without rules or laws to bind them - a place where industrialization and technology did not have a grip yet. A place where they were kings, and their kingdom was all that their eyes could see. 

But things changed. They grew older. Soon it was no longer just the two of them. By the time they realized what was happening, it was already too late - the years had slipped through their fingers; passed them by unnoticed, never to return again. Now, all they had were each other and their memories.

“Look,” his partner spoke under his breath, barely masking his nearly childlike excitement as he pointed up towards the sky, guiding the other’s gaze. “Hercules, over there. And Sagittarius, on the Southern horizon.”

“They’re the only thing that hasn’t changed over the years,” Dutch observed. “We still look up at the same sky and we see the same stars as we did yesterday... The summer still seems far too short, and the winter lasts far too long. The world’s still spinning... And, you and I - we’re still here.”

Hosea let out a chuckle before a soft cough shook his shoulders and their gazes met swiftly in the darkness, both faces graced with a smile in the mellow shadows of the fire’s glow.

“We’re getting old, Hosea…” Dutch then sighed out, almost weary, but with his voice carrying a warm tone of fondness. “Old, and bony.”

“I surely hope we are.” Hosea cleared his throat, ever the calm and rational one of the two, even when joking. They shared a chuckle, keeping quiet for a moment until Dutch spoke up once again.

“But you know what…” he started, thoughtfully staring at the fading glow before their feet. “No matter what happens, they can’t take our memories from us. They can’t take away all we’ve seen together. All we’ve done. The places we’ve been... All the good times we had. Wherever it is life may take us from here on… We’ll always have our memories. We’ll always have a part of each other. Just look, at all we’ve won. We done did good...”

“And we raised two fine boys into fine men… That took its fair share of effort, but what else could one wish for in life.”

“Nothing that I could think of, Hosea. Nothing I could think of.” 

He uttered a satisfied hum, and for a while they sat in silent agreement until, suddenly, Hosea let out a hoarse chuckle, drawing Dutch’s attention.

“And how often, in all those years, I swore you would drive me mad...”

“Oh, I know all too well.” An amused smile came to Dutch’s lips, watching the other as they reminisced.

“You always managed to see good where there was none. You and your starry-eyed idealism. I’ve always thought you would get us killed one day…” 

“Not yet, Hosea. Not quite yet.”

“You are an insufferable man, Dutch van der Linde.” He mumbled as he turned to face him, only inches away from each other now as he spoke under his breath. “But God knows... God knows I wouldn’t be able to leave you if I wanted to. The two of us… We were meant to be together until the bitter end.”

“I promised you we was,” he said, not hesitating a moment as he watched him. “All those years ago. When I first said I loved you.”

“That you did...” He paused, thoughtful, his gaze lowering to where their hands rested so close to each other atop their thighs, and he raised his, and gently wove their fingers together.

“And I did not leave you, against my better judgement. It seems like I’m stuck with you now, for better or for worse.”

“Oh, cruel, cruel fate,” Dutch quipped, the words only a warm rumble of his voice as he slowly leaned in, and brushed their lips together in the dark. 

Hosea’s eyes fluttered shut, and for a short moment it was only the two of them as they had been twenty years ago, and when they parted, they rested their foreheads together, falling still as though in quiet longing for more.

A long moment of mindful silence passed before Dutch finally stirred again, raising the other man’s hand and gently brushing his lips over the back of it in adoration. Hosea’s clear blue eyes watched him, pensive, like shards of fallen April sky.

“I would be a liar if I said I didn’t miss you during those years we were apart...” He then spoke quietly, with a certain regret in his voice. His face fell, sorrowful. No matter how hard he tried not to let it get to him, even now, it wasn’t hard to tell by the grief in his eyes he was talking about his time with Bessie. He had loved her so dearly and had lost her way too soon. 

Dutch knew. He had known then, too, but it had still felt like a slap in the face to watch him walk off into a future that did not include him any longer. A future he could not be a part of. It had however also taught him an important life lesson: people could not be possessed. 

Hosea owed him nothing, even after all the years they had been together, all they had gone through; not his love or his presence. Not his friendship, not his support. He wasn’t his, and sometimes -Dutch had come to realize, heartbroken- loving someone means letting them go. 

“And I missed you.” He watched him with his dark eyes, slowly brushing his thumb over the other’s knuckles. “But you know what they say... Absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“Yes. They say so. It must be true.”

“What you had with Bessie…” Dutch started under his breath, a regretful tone to his voice - almost hesitant. “It was all I ever wanted for you. A stable life somewhere pleasant and calm; a family of your own, far out of harm’s way... I wanted you to be safe, even if that meant not having you near. More than I wanted you, I wanted you to be happy.”

“Part of making someone happy is accepting that you do not get to decide what the source of that happiness is, Dutch. In dearth and in excess, no matter the trouble you landed us in. It was always you. Always.” He leaned in closer, managing to capture his doubtful gaze.

“I chose for this life, Dutch. I chose you. And I would choose you a million times over. Again and again… I would always choose you.”

His fingers had taken over now, gently caressing his hands with his thumbs as he spoke. For a moment longer Dutch maintained eye contact with him before finally lowering his gaze away, vulnerable. 

“I know that,” he then said, his voice breaking into a whisper near the end of his sentence. “I know that Hosea...”

“I love you, Dutch van der Linde.” 

“I love you, too.”

After a brief moment of silence Hosea leaned in to return the kiss now, reassuring and tender. The fleeting touch was short-lived and soon to be replaced by the weight of his head resting against his once more as, finally, their arms found their way around each other in an embrace. Slowly, Dutch’s heavy head came to rest upon his shoulder and he closed his eyes.

For minutes they sat in silence together, not speaking a word as the glow of the fire slowly faded into the night, leaving them nothing but ashes and coal. They could barely make out the shapes of each other in the dark any longer - all soft and mellow silhouettes and shadows, but their hands still knew the way by heart and they had never needed much more than the gentle light of the moon to love each other by.

“I’ve just one request for you, Dutch.” Hosea said eventually, the whisper barely any louder than the hum of the cicadas in the woodland.

“What is it, Hosea?” He pulled back to look into his eyes, a hand cupping his cheek tenderly. “You know I’d do anything for you, don’t you?”

“If anything were to happen to me,” he said, never breaking eye contact, “remember me exactly as I was, will you? Remember me, remember us as we were back then, when we were young... Will you do that for me, Dutch?”

He kept silent for a moment, pensively, then answered. 

“Of course I will.” 

Once more he took his hands in his, both of them, and gave a reassuring squeeze. 

“I remember exactly what you looked like, with your golden hair. Hell, were you handsome. I spent… A lot of my time watching you as you slept. Just, watching you. You’ve given me so much to remember you by... How could I ever forget?”

Hosea smiled, a faint curve to his lips. He gave a slight shake of his head as he turned his gaze away in amusement, breathing out. “Oh, you ole sweet talker… You always know just what to say, don’t you? That silver tongue of yours...”

“What can I say…” Dutch smirked, his shoulders rounding up into a shrug as he stroked a strand of the other’s hair behind his ear. “It comes natural to me. You always managed to captivate me so effortlessly. I was infatuated with you from the first moment I saw you. It’s a simple truth.”

The older man hummed softly, conversational, and cast another glance up at the stars above. 

“You are many things to me, Dutch van der Linde, but you’re not a liar. I know you better than that.”

“After so many years, I’d say you’re ought to, my dear.” 

The couple finally fell silent, sitting alongside each other in the quiet dark of the meadowland while around them, all slept peacefully. There wasn’t much left to be said between them, and yet they found themselves dreading the passing of the night; the approaching dawn that was only mere hours away; knowing that once the sun would come up to chase the night away, life would find a way keep them apart and busy, and moments like these came so rarely nowadays. So they sat, neither of them wanting to be the first one to get up and say goodnight; neither one wanting to break their embrace in favor of a couple hours of rest.

“Hosea,” Dutch then finally said, and he slowly pulled away, meeting his gaze under the moonlight. “Will you come with me for a spell?”

“Of course I will,” he said, seemingly a little taken aback by the unexpected request, but when Dutch rose to his feet, slipping out from under his coat, he followed suit, trailing behind the other man all the way back towards his tent. The older of the two then watched as he walked towards the gramophone, fumbling through the shadows without a sound, and fetched a record from a crate. 

A soft smile came to grace his features when music came to fill the air, volume turned down as far as it would go, and Dutch came out and turned to face him, wordlessly offering him his hand.

“May I have this dance, mister Matthews?” he inquired with tilted head, his face framed by soft black curls.

“You certainly may.” Taking the outstretched hand in his he faithfully assumed his position, his hands easily sliding over his body following along well-known dips and curves until they settled in their place, where they fit as though predestined.

“My, who would have thought it. The old Van der Linde charm. You still have it in you.” 

“Just like old times,” Dutch murmured; a sweet rumble in his chest as they pressed together, their foreheads meeting as they began to sway along to the music.

“Just like old times,” his partner confirmed, letting his eyes slide shut; their bodies close in the darkness as the night grew thin.


End file.
